Saving Granger
by davestridersjunk
Summary: "I'm not telling you to smile at every stranger you see, but just… be nice. Everyone you meet is going through some sort of battle. Just the smallest kind gesture can save someone's life." Draco attempts to fix a broken Hermione. WARNING: There is light mentions of self-harm, suicide & eating disorders in this story.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter.

**Warning:** There is mentions of an eating disorder and self-harming in this story. There is also mentions of suicide. If these themes disturb you in any way, then please don't read it.

**Note:** I wrote this for my friend, Jonna. She means a lot to me and is extremely special. I love her to pieces and hope that she knows that. Things will start looking up, I promise you.

With that said, on with the story! I hope you enjoy.

* * *

"Remind me why we chose this," Blaise asked his best friend, confusion evident on his handsome, olive face. Draco raised his eyebrows in agreement and sighed, throwing down his quill.

"I have no fucking idea," He said, voicing his anger.

Blaise sighed audibly. "This is so bloody boring, who cares about emotions? Wizards have emotions too, so why isn't it just called 'human studies,' why does it have to be 'muggle studies?' It's totally bias!" He outraged. Draco simply nodded tiredly in response.

"Now, it's clear that wizards and muggle's act differently in situations, since wizards have the advantage of faster logic and more options due to magic. We're going to be studying both reactions to different situations and comparing them, and then you'll produce an assessment which will be graded." The teacher said loudly.

"The only person who even gives a damn about this class is Hermione Granger," Blaise said moodily, dropping his head to the desk.

Draco snorted. "That's because she _is_ part muggle," He said distastefully.

Blaise chuckled in agreement, his face still mushed into the desk. Draco watched him amusedly, thankful for the entertainment he was providing. He had such a weird best friend. He liked that.

"Now, to all the wizards in here: your best friend is angry or upset… how do you comfort them?" The teacher asked.

"Make them laugh," Someone offered with a shrug.

"Ask them if they want to talk about it," Someone up the back said.

"Get someone to have sex with them," A cheeky fifth year said. Most students bit back laughter as the teacher stared at the culprit disapprovingly.

"Now," He continued. "Those were all very good answers. What about if it was a classmate? Someone… not so close to you? How would you comfort them?"

"I wouldn't," Someone shouted.

"But why?" The teacher enquired.

The girl shrugged insensitively. "Because it's not my problem if they aren't close to me,"

The teacher sighed hopelessly and sat on his chair. Some children growled and slouched in their seats; they knew what was coming.

"Just because we aren't close to someone, doesn't mean that we can't comfort them if we see that they're upset. Although we're studying the differences between muggle's and wizards, they have one thing in common: familiarity. This is why we have the 'not my problem' feeling- because you don't know this person. You don't know how they'll react if you try to ask them what's wrong or if they're alright, so we stick to the people that we're familiar with. But let me tell you a story,"

Everyone groaned again.

"A young man, it is unknown if he was a wizard or a muggle, prepared to commit suicide one day. But he made himself a promise. On his way to the bridge, if someone, anyone, even a stranger, smiled at him, then he wouldn't kill himself."

The class was silent as they took in their professors words.

"Well?" Someone urged after a few moments of peacefulness. "What happened?"

The professor sadly sighed. "Nobody smiled."

Shocked faces were now scattered across the room, people who had answered with negative responses now wished that they hadn't and everyone was silent once more. It became sadly awkward.

"It is… inexplicable, how even the smallest gesture from a stranger can change our whole thought process. It can make us feel better about ourselves, it can change our minds, and it can make us feel like someone cares." The teacher urged, using wild hand gestures. It was clear he was extremely passionate about the subject he taught.

"I'm not telling you to smile at every stranger you see," he waved his hand, "but just… be nice. Everyone you meet is going through some sort of battle. Just the smallest kind gesture can save someone's life."

There was another sad silence as everyone registered what they'd just been told. Blaise looked at Draco with wide eyes, his face showing his shock at how his most boring class had gone to one that he actually… understood, within minutes.

The teacher interrupted the silence by getting up from his small stool, the creak of the wood echoing throughout the whole room. He removed his glasses and set his book down on his table.

"You're dismissed."

There was no chatter as everyone collected their things and packed their bags. Just about everyone was still thinking through what they'd just been told. The more arrogant students had no idea that they could make such an impact, even on a stranger's life, and suddenly regretted the times that they'd bullied someone.

As for Hermione Granger, she packed her things silently anyways. None of her Gryffindor friends shared this class with her and after being silent for a long while, she always felt slightly lonely. There was no sign of emotion on her face as she hauled her bag over her shoulder gently and walked out of the classroom.

Theodore Nott chuckled as he squeezed past Draco and Blaise. "Granger looks as if she might actually hang herself tonight,"

Frowning, Draco looked instinctively behind him to where Nott was looking and felt uncomfortable at her lowered head and slow, sluggish walk. He sort of mentally relied on the golden trio to make sure everything was okay now. It had become a pattern over the years, obviously. If any member of the golden trio was worried, anxious, nervous… then everybody had a reason to be nervous.

It annoyed him that he slightly cared, but he was still human. He still had a heart.

"Trust me, if she did hang herself tonight, you wouldn't be laughing," Blaise glared at Theo. Draco mentally agreed with his best friend and narrowed his eyes at his fellow Slytherin, slightly disgusted that someone would even say that out loud.

Draco looked up again, just in time to catch her face when she turned to the left and frowned. He didn't like that. He didn't like that at all.

If Hermione Granger was worried about something, it made him nervous and on edge. Granger was the one that kept him calm, as funny as it sounded. They had set their differences aside last year and weren't friends, but weren't enemies either. They were closer to being enemies than friends, but they still weren't enemies in his mind.

Making a mental note to steal a glance at her later, he left the room.

* * *

At dinner, she still wasn't the same.

Usually, he'd take a glance at her, see her laughing and dub the day as: most likely, nothing bad will happen. He'd been doing this every single day for around a year now.

But today, he studied her. He didn't just glance, he _noticed. _

For the first time in his life, he wondered about her health and her life. She didn't look… well. There were dark circles around her eyes that she'd tried to cover up with a glamour, but during the war, he'd been taught how to read through them. Dark circles meant no sleep, and he wondered why she was getting no sleep.

Not only that, but her uniform seemed to hang on her a little. She no longer filled it out and her skirt dropped a few inches to where it no longer clung to the curves of her waist. His heart skipped a beat and his worry level inched higher, but his mind raced to make up excuses. He didn't want to admit that he was… concerned.

It was boiling hot in the hall and most students had their jumpers off, some even had their shirts unbuttoned with t-shirts underneath because of the heat, but not her. No, she still had her shirt on, buttoned right up to the top, and her jumper over that, and who knew if she was wearing a t-shirt underneath like everyone else.

Finally, Draco admitted that something wasn't right. He didn't know if he was worried _because_ she was worried, or if he was worried about her. He hoped it was the former, because he really didn't want to find out what would happen if he started caring about her.

Sighing and finally tearing his eyes away from her, he shoved some more food around his plate and tried to stop himself from thinking about her.

He shivered as someone brushed past him, creating a small breeze and shuddered, turning his head to see who had flown by him. Making him frown even deeper, he realised that it was her, and she looked in a hurry.

Desperate and driven by his curiosity, Draco stood and excused himself from the dinner table, following after her. He ignored Pansy's whines about how he'd barely eaten anything. Eating wasn't his top priority at the moment.

He followed her, peering around corners and crevices until she came to the prefect's bathroom. He swore slightly, but cast a disillusionment charm on himself and put his ear up to the door. He heard sobbing and his heart lowered a tiny bit to hear someone cry so hard.

He listened for other sounds, but the only sound was her retching in between sobs. He sighed as he realised that she'd probably cried so much that she'd made herself sick.

Wondering if he should bring it up to Blaise (people seemed to favour Blaise over him) he walked away from the bathroom, taking the charm off of himself and bit his lip. He thought back to this morning, about how the smallest gesture could make someone feel better, but decided against it.

She'd probably rather hang herself than have a kind gesture from him.

He felt sad about admitting it, but it was probably the truth. She didn't care about him. She never would.

* * *

"Pansy, please," Draco said politely, pushing her off of him. There was a party going on in the Slytherin common room and he'd agreed to go for a while. He sipped a firewhiskey that sat loosely in his right hand and his left arm was thrown over the back of the sofa. Pansy kneeled beside him, dressed in a lacy black dress that left nothing to the imagination and occasionally pulled it up over her thighs.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and politely pried her hand from his thigh. "Pansy, no,"

The girl sighed angrily and hopped off of the couch, swaying her hips as she walked up to another Slytherin boy, who welcomed her the way she wanted to. He held his drink in one hand, away from them both, so as to not spill it, and didn't hide the fact that he was looking her up and down. Draco rolled his eyes when they started to snog right in front of him and got up, excusing himself to Blaise.

When he exited the common room he pinched the spot between his grey eyes and sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn't know if he had a headache from the little amount of alcohol that he'd consumed or if it was the pounding music. The floor vibrated underneath his feet and he walked down the right corridor, needing some peace and quiet.

He walked for a while and then sat on a small bench provided just above a staircase, blowing out a sigh. It was times like these when he thought about life and practically reminisced on everything he'd ever done. Some good, some bad. He wondered what life would be like if he'd been born into another family, done well in school, not joined in on the war, not harassed Potter and his friends, told people how he felt instead of bottling everything up and pretending that he didn't give a damn about anything… If he had the chance, he would do everything differently.

But there was nothing he could do now.

A small whimper made his ears twitch and he lifted his head, looking in front of him. Nobody was there. He frowned and looked behind him, nobody there either.

Another whimpering sound came, much clearer this time, and he stood up quietly, trying to hear the direction of which it came. The next time he heard it, his eyes flicked to the stairs involuntarily and he frowned.

He walked soundlessly to the top of the staircase, thanking god that he was in socks and had forgotten to put shoes on. A small figure was distinguishable. The figure had caramel wavy hair and the moment he saw it, he knew who it was.

He contemplated standing listening to her again but the little alcohol in him boosted his confidence and he lowered the stairs quietly. Hermione Granger sat with her knees up against her chest on a step, one elbow balanced on her knee. Her eyes were shut and she cried into her hand. The other arm laid limply on her other knee.

Since her eyes were closed, she hadn't seen him yet.

Taking a deep, silent breath, Draco lifted his hand without thinking and gently laid it on her back.

She jumped in an instant and her head whipped around to his. His eyes went wide and they spent a few moments staring at each other, wondering what the hell was going on. Hermione wondered if she should run away or hear him out. She chose the latter. It was something about his eyes.

Draco licked his dry lips and swallowed. He tried not to look at her face; her heartbroken brown eyes, the tear trails running down her face. It… hurt him.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, trying to ignore how he could feel her spine more than he'd liked.

Hermione choked on a sob and turned away from him, putting her face back against her palm.

"Yes. Please just leave me alone."

Glad that he at least hadn't made her snap, he prodded her gently again.

"Are you sure?" He asked. She shifted, but he didn't know if she'd nodded or simply gotten more comfortable, so he said something else to her.

"You don't look okay," He tried. She finally picked up her free hand and wiped away a few tears.

"What would you care?" She sniffed. Draco's stomach dropped at her negative outlook on him, but he tried not to let it affect him. She needed help, and he was there for her.

"I just notice you haven't been… you lately," He said, cringing when he heard his soft voice. It was as if he was talking to a child.

"You don't even know me," Hermione whimpered, fresh tears making their way down her face.

"Sure I do," Draco shrugged, trying to regain his manly voice. "We've known each other for six years,"

Hermione snorted sarcastically. "We've known _of_ each other for six years. Don't pretend you care, just leave me alone, Malfoy."

Draco looked away from her and sighed, licking his lips again.

"I know we don't exactly see eye to eye but when someone needs help; I'm not going to let childish arguments stand in the way of that,"

"I don't need any help," Hermione denied. Draco raised his eyebrows and let his hand slide off of her back. She seemed to curl around herself tighter at his absence and sobbed once more.

"Look, it's obvious that you're upset. Sometimes it's easier talking to a stranger, why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because it's you?" She said, finally lifting her head to look at him. She frowned at him, silently mentioning that he was the last person she'd want to talk to. He felt unwanted and hopeless, but he couldn't just turn a blind eye to this.

"We can agree never to talk again after this if you like, just… what's wrong?" Draco asked.

Hermione angrily sighed. "Why won't you get the message? I want to be alone. Leave me alone."

He didn't know if it was the alcohol or his desperation, but he grabbed her free hand in his and pulled it over to rest on his knees.

He didn't mean to inspect her wrist- he really didn't. But whatever he was going to say was stopped as he noticed the faint red marks scattered up her forearm. She hadn't noticed that he'd noticed, but he knew now. He knew, and most of all, he understood.

He'd been there before. It wasn't easy and it definitely wasn't good. He was lucky to have survived his stage of self-loathe and hoped that he could help her too.

He swallowed, wondering if he should even mention to her that he knew. Should he outright ask her why she did it? Should he accuse her of doing it? Should he softly advise her not to? He tried to remember which method had worked on him.

A light bulb went off inside his head and he put two and two together: her recent loss in weight and retching sounds weren't from crying too hard either. He closed his eyes over slowly and prayed to God, even though he didn't believe in him, that she would be okay.

"Hermione," Draco took a deep breath. "This isn't the answer," He said.

She ripped her hand out of his and covered her face with two hands now, sobbing into them.

"Go away,"

Irritated now, Draco grabbed her hand back, careful not to touch her wrist.

"No," He said firmly. "You need help and I'm giving you it."

She didn't resist this time, and for that he was glad. He felt like maybe he was getting through to her.

"Tell me what's wrong," Draco said. Hermione shook her head, her wild waves flying in every direction and then wiped her face with her sleeve again.

"Please, I can help you. I know I'm not who you expected to offer help and I'm probably not the person that you want help from but the important thing to focus on is that you can get help, not who's giving you it."

"Please, just leave." Hermione said, her voice thick and husky.

"I'm not leaving, so don't waste your breath in asking me to," Draco said firmly.

"Why? Why do you even care?" Hermione hiccupped. Draco searched for a reason. Why did he care? He didn't quite know why, but he knew that he cared about her.

"Because I do, you're a person and I'm not all bad. I don't want anything to happen to you. I'd hand this over to your friends but they don't even seem to notice that you're… ill."

"I'm not ill," Hermione denied.

"Look at me," Draco suddenly ordered. Hermione lifted her head to stare at him and frowned in curiosity.

Once he had her attention, Draco spoke.

"Tell me that you're not hurting yourself on purpose."

Hermione swallowed and her cheeks took on a redder shade.

"It's none of your business," She said.

Draco continued to stare at her. "It is now. I'm making it my business. You're Hermione Granger- you're stronger than this."

Tears leaked from her eyes and she wiped them away harshly. "Why are you even being nice to me?" She asked.

"Because what if nobody else was nice to you again and you went too far one time? I could… prevent that… by being nice."

"You can't prevent it," Hermione said, blinking.

"Why not?" Draco asked, frowning.

"You just can't."

"I can. I know I can. I have before," He said. Hermione shook her head and tried to pull her hand away, but he laced their fingers together and sandwiched her hand in between both of his, securing her there.

"What do you want from me? Do you want the truth, so that you can go and tell everyone?" She asked bitterly.

"No… I just want to help you," Draco said, frowning.

"Well, you can't."

"Yes I can," Draco argued. "I can if you just let me,"

"Well, I'm not letting you, so you can't," Hermione argued back stubbornly. Draco sighed.

"Look… I know you probably feel alone… and numb, and empty, and like nothing is going to get better but you won't feel this way forever. Things will change. Life will be good to you, and then it'll hand you a lousy card. It's just how it words, life is full of up and downs."

Hermione was ashamed to admit that was exactly how she felt. "I know you're trying to be nice, and I believe that you're only trying to be kind," Hermione finally turned her whole body towards him. "But I'm beyond repair now, so please just leave it."

"That isn't true," Draco said. "Just because you starve yourself and purposely hurt yourself doesn't mean you're headed in that direction. We can turn it around right now so that you never find out how far you're tempted to go,"

"How do you know I haven't already tried?" Hermione asked.

Assuming she was talking about suicide, Draco voted for honesty and shrugged, because he really didn't know.

"I feel like… if you had already tried to end things then you would be worse than this,"

Hermione snorted. "There is worse than this?"

Draco nodded. "There's much worse than this. That's why we have to help you quickly, so that you don't discover how much worse it can get."

Hermione sniffled and took in a deep breath. "Don't tell anybody. Nobody knows,"

"I won't," Draco said. "I promise I won't, but you have to promise me that you'll get help,"

Terrified, Hermione closed her eyes as she began to cry harder again and admitted, "I don't want help,"

"Why?" Draco frowned.

"Because I don't want to become good again... Like you said, life gets good and then it gets bad. I don't want to be here when it gets bad again."

Draco's heart literally broke in two for her. He swallowed and started to stroke her hand lightly. "It might never get this bad again,"

"It will… It'll always be like this,"

"No it won't… Listen, not many people know this and it might make you feel better about telling _me_ all of these things but I've been where you are. I was further than you, I tried to… Now I'm happy again and I know for a fact that I'm not going to feel that way again."

"You tried to what?" Hermione asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Draco breathed in through his nose and held her stare before looking down. Nobody knew about this.

"I tried to kill myself… a lot."

"I had no idea," Hermione squeaked. "I'm sorry,"

"Don't be,"

"I don't even know how to get help anyways,"

"Surround yourself with happy people, realise that you're better than this, notice how much you have going for you, and get someone special in your life. Get a rock, someone who grounds you."

"Get a rock?" Hermione asked confusedly.

"Yes," Draco nodded. "Have someone in your life who keeps you grounded and who you can solely rely on."

"I have nobody like that,"

"That's a lie; you have Potter and Weasley,"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't. I barely talk to them anymore, so they just ignore me."

Draco's face dropped sadly. "What about Weaselette?"

"I'm not close to her, like I said, nobody knows about this,"

"I do," Draco swallowed.

"Only you though," Hermione cried. Draco took her hand in his left hand and put his right hand on her back again.

"Then… I'll be your rock," He said hesitantly.

Hermione shook her head. "No… it's alright. I'll just be alone. It doesn't matter anyways,"

"Yes it does, Granger. You're the strongest person I know… I know you can do this,"

"I don't think a rock will help me, you're better off just pretending this didn't happen. Don't feel guilty, it's not your fault or anything," She said, shaking.

"A rock will help you. Not only a rock, you need to start eating and you have to stop harming yourself. It doesn't help. I know it feels like it does, but it doesn't."

"It does, though."

"It doesn't." Draco repeated firmly. "It's not helping you. Does it make you feel better? No… it makes you feel worse, but you don't realise it until you're standing on a chair with a rope around your neck,"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly and she stared at him. "You did that to yourself?"

"Almost, thankfully someone stopped me."

"Who stopped you?" She asked curiously.

"…Blaise,"

"He found you like that?"

"Worse, he came after it had happened," Draco licked his lips before carrying on. "I remember, ironically enough, my last thought being 'I don't want to die,"

"But why did you do it, if you didn't want to die?" Hermione asked. Draco shrugged.

"My life was so bad that I felt like I did want to die. But I don't, and you don't, either."

"But I really do," She whispered, looking at him.

Draco looked into her eyes and shook his head, bringing his hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "No, you don't. You just want what seems like an easy escape, the best way,"

"The thing is, it's not the best way in the end," Draco said softly.

"After today, we'll go back to not knowing each other," Hermione turned away and said sadly.

Draco frowned. "That's not true at all; I'll stay here as long as you want me to…"

"Why are you suddenly nice? You're supposed to be a prat," Hermione wiped her tears away again.

Draco looked down. "I don't know… I suppose that without all the pureblood influences in my life, I became… decent. And I know what you're going through."

It was silent for a while, until,

"Thank you," She whimpered.

"You don't have to thank me," Draco said.

He looked at her, so vulnerable, fragile and broken. Before he could help himself, he threw both of his arms around her and gathered her in his arms. She was tiny against him, and freezing. He wanted to take care of her for the night so she couldn't go back to her dorm, and they also couldn't go back to his dorm because there was a party going on. He licked his lips and then helped her up, letting her lean against him.

"Come on, you must be tired,"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, she was asleep in his arms. How they'd gone from nothing to something so intimate in just a day scared him, but he knew he had to be strong for her. His arm lay comfortably under the curve of her neck and her arm was thrown over his chest haphazardly. She was clothed and covered with a duvet, but it was clear she was clinging to him for warmth. He didn't mind, as long as she wasn't hurting herself. He promised himself that he would make her eat something tomorrow, though.

Sighing, he tilted his head so that it just gently rested against hers and let his eyes slide shut.

* * *

For once, Hermione woke up feeling lighter. She didn't feel like she was carrying a heavy bag of emotions on her back and she felt… almost happy. She didn't feel angry, or sad, or anxious. She felt safe.

Remembering everything that Draco had done for her last night, she took in his sleeping form, smiling lightly at his mussed up hair and pouting pink lips. She knew she shouldn't, but she leaned over and let her lips brush across his softly. It was the only way she could think of to show her thanks.

He moaned slightly in his sleep and she stilled, making sure not to wake him. Checking the time and realising that it was only four in the morning, Hermione lay her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes.

It might not happen quickly, and it might not be easy, but one thing was for sure: Hermione Granger was going to be healthy again soon, thanks to Draco Malfoy.

* * *

This will most likely stay a one-shot. If I ever decide to chapter this story, it will be I complete my other story **The Shadow Boy** which you can find on my page somewhere!

If Draco was too OOC, then I apologise. I had to make Hermione the troubled one and have Draco come to the rescue, sorry if he was too soft! I promise that he'll return to snark-y, witty, sexy Draco in my next fic!

I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!


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